#one day it'll be rewritten enough to where i feel comfortable posting the chapters again but it wont be for a while tbh

[throughtrialbyfire]

𝐖𝐈𝐏 𝐖𝐞𝐝𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐝𝐚𝐲 ♥

hi all!!!! i climb out of my draugr crypt at last!! a lot's been going on irl for me, but i hope now to be more active for the most part.

thank you to everyone who's tagged me in wip wednesdays the past few months, and thank you to @captain-of-silvenar for tagging me this week!!

tagging @skyrim-forever @archangelsunited @umbracirrus @dirty-bosmer @saltymaplesyrup @oblivions-dawn @thequeenofthewinter and anyone who wants to participate!

this week, i bring to you a long section of chapter 1 of my rewritten/revamped fic, An Inner Sanctity. hopefully, if all goes well, i'll have the rewrite up bit by bit later this year. ancano has just woken up after being knocked out at the college of winterhold, and he's… going through it. he's nasty, as usual. don't expect him to change until later in the fic lol <3

The only thing he noticed was how dark the room was, lit only by a hearth or some other cooking fire, based on the crackle and the meager sense of light he could note if he turned his head. He couldn't find the strength to do so, as the shooting, electric pain dug itself into him like a hot knife on a blacksmith's anvil and ran down through him in wild arcs, starting in his lower spine and firing through his shoulders and down into his legs until his head began to pound and he found himself sweating profusely in the silent room. He strangled a cry midway from his lips and instead grit his teeth and sucked in air, ragged and noisy. He had to suppress it. He had no idea where he was, and the tension in his head only grew, pops of color behind his eyes and neck tight with the amount of effort it was taking him to remain quiet. He struggled through slow breaths in an attempt to get everything under control, his body coated in a thin sheen of sweat as he did so. His lungs ached, but he tried again and again to keep his inhales and exhales at an even pace, and when he succeeded, he closed his eyes and tried to surmise anything about the room. There were wooden walls near him. He'd got a glimpse in the middle of whatever fit had come over him. And there was a bed beneath him, he could run his fingers over the linens and know this. A heavy quilt laid over his legs, and he figured that's why he couldn't move them, and made the decision to try. He kicked one leg, then the other, but they mostly remained in place like stubbornly rusted carts laiden with ore. He cursed in a breathy hiss and tried again, and while they did move, it just intensified the pain in the muscles, and he groaned as his vision swam with dots. Whatever had happened to him was enough to leave the Altmer without any sense of time or reason. He was, in some manner, glad to find himself alive. This did not fix matters much, but it did lend a helping hand.

Logically, he knew it was not hours that it took for the pain to dull, but rather half of one if he had to hazard a guess. That didn't negate the fact that, to him, it seemed much longer. Could have been days, for all he knew, until the aches began to soften in his body and his skull, dissipating into simple thuds behind his eyes. His ears rushed with blood, every ounce of flesh on him an uncomfortable feeling in his senses. He peered down and lifted the blanket slightly to see the collar of a simple tunic, nothing like his Thalmor robes, and swore to himself in a mental note to get back at whoever had put him in this position. He scoffed at the color of the tunic as the revelation that it was of Nord make made a home in his thoughts. By Auriel, whichever fool had replaced his clothing with that of the less… Enlightened, he settled on, was going to pay in ways they could never foresee. He looked to the ceiling and saw wood above him. Even the effort of moving his neck was monumental; every piece of his body burned as though he'd been speared through with scorching irons, and the notion of not knowing what day it was made him only feel worse. He did wonder in a brief manner how long he'd been asleep. He didn't wish to dwell on it, but the reality of his position only reinforced the need to know, because to anyone else in the Dominion, it would appear as if he'd abandoned his post if he did not send word that he was alive. This was what got his heart pumping. He tried to move again, forcing himself upright. The pain struck tenfold, and he gasped and gargled on it, not wanting to know the sort of expression he made as he attempted to toss the blankets aside. He got as far as wrapping one hand around them, then holding them up, but as if in a state of postmortem, he could not force his fingers to curl harder or wrist to move further. He could hear through the rushing of blood again in his temples that someone had entered the room, and whoever it was began to swipe his forehead with a cold cloth and make any attempt to get him to lie back down, but nothing on Nirn could bring his vision back from the inky void which had overtaken it. He heard only garbled noises for speech that made his ears ring, and he found his back again supine on the mattress. He gasped hard for air, and a chair's scraping made him so miserable it may as well have been the same as someone sticking nails into his head, and the stranger worked to comb his hair back from his forehead and swipe the cloth over his skin. "Get away from me," he managed out in huffs.

The stranger's voice sounded like temple bells - loud. "I'm trying to help." "I said, get away, or I will turn every measely little inch of your puny body to ash." He'd intended for it to come out more like a yell, but it barely made its way above a whisper. The stranger didn't move. Just adjusted in the creaking chair and pulled the blankets back into the former position, and ran the rag over his forehead again. They swept it down his cheeks and his neck, then set it back in a metal bowl sloshing with water, and took brush, dipped the bristles in, and as gently as the stranger could, glided it through the front of his hair in order to keep it out of his way. Through the heavy veil of his own senseless agony, Ancano panted at the effort merely rising off the mattress had taken from him. He kept his focus on the ceiling until he could turn his neck to face the other, to get a good look at his captor. The long, dark curls and the red vest, the too-large tunic and the belt that held normally held a sword, spot now vacant. The last memory that he had of this figure was that of them trying to kill him. Through his frayed consciousness, he narrowed his eyes, brow knit. To say he was baffled would be an understatement. "Athenath?" he choked out, the figure's eyes locking on his own. His voice was abnormally hoarse and the other Altmer managed a nervy grin. "Well, Athenath, fetch me my uniform. I promise, I shall not mention you to the embassy if you do."

The younger elf shook his head. "I'm not going to do that. And in your state, I doubt you could walk a step away from that bed." When Ancano made an attempt to try, what looked almost like worry crashed over the other's features, Athenath having to assist him in the simple task of sitting upright so he'd not wind up laying back on the mattress coated in sweat. "Hey, don't do that, you're not…" He didn't like the way that they trailed off. "Not what, you simpleton?" Athenath looked like he was subduing a sneer. "Not well. You're not well." "Well, that makes two of us. Mark my words, you have just sealed your fate," he hissed through clenched teeth. The younger Altmer rolled his round eyes and went to the pot over the fire. He stirred at something fragrant, a smell he must have not noticed until now, the scents of leek and Imperial spices and meat all churning over one another in his mind. The other pulled the wooden spoon out and set it on a tray near the hearth, cloth beneath, and took a silver pitcher in one hand and a cup in the other. "If you can keep water down, we'll move on to broth." The statement was matter-of-fact, and he did not like the sound of it. He thought about killing him where he stood, but the temptation of water was all too much. His tongue had never been so dry, like sandstone in the crevice of his mouth. He'd never known he could get so thirsty, and he did not say a word about it. It would be pathetic to ask like a dog or a child for a sip, but he did not have to, as the other brought the cup over and set it on the makeshift nightstand next to him. Then, the other began to shift his pillows and adjust the older elf so that he was more upright and less likely to spill on himself, and the mere mental image made him wince with embarrassment. Even the idea was enough to make him want to curl up under the quilts. "Here," Athenath passed the cup into his hands. He didn't know what sort of metal it was made from, but he would have to guess Dwemer due to the coloration and weight. Dwemer cups were always a little lighter than other sorts, even glass, which to scholars was a perplexing issue. Ancano stared at his fingers and wondered if they appeared frail in the light as a trick of it, or he'd truly been out cold for longer than a couple of hours. He suppressed the urge to ask. Instead, he lifted the cup with a momentous effort to his lips and gave a slow sip. If he downed it too fast, he'd run the risk of getting ill, and so he settled on being easy with his attempts at regaining his strength. "And here." As he went to set the cup aside, Athenath picked up the brush and passed it into his hands as well. "I figure you may wanna brush your hair." He scoffed. Of course he would. He took the silver object into his palm, bristles of fine mammoth hair marked with the smallest here-and-there strands of his own, and wondered again at how long he'd slept. He looked to the other, skeptical of the actions, then got to work untangling and smoothing down the lengths of white. He was beginning to get a better look at his surroundings; the hearth, the wooden floors, and the window to the other side of the room which he couldn't quite see out of, but knew there was the faintest shine of daylight. The chimney was stone and a chest laid near the entryway, but the threshold looked more like an arched passage to a foyer. Sophisticated, he thought. Surprisingly.

[wolfjackle-creates]

Ok, so I think it's been clear since Sunday what you guys want. I was hoping to share what I've written tomorrow, and I still might, but it's more likely to be Monday before I get the chance to post.

To the one (1) person who voted for Bring Me Home, I see you and I love you. You are my favorite person on this site. Feel free to DM me and I might send a little something your way just for you. ;) This is the fic I'm focusing on the most, even if you can't tell based on what I'm posting. I think if I ever do a poll like this again, I'll have to include summaries of what the different options are. That's my bad, but hey, live and learn!

For those who don't know, Bring Me Home is a fic where Tim and Danny were internet friends before either were heroes. And after they become heroes, they don't bother keeping identities secret from each other. Now, when I first wrote this fill back in November, I wasn't very familiar with DC or Batman characters. I am more so now (though mostly through podcasts, metas, fanfic, wikis etc). And I realized, I can't have a Tim story without the Young Justice team. So I've been reworking some things to fit in Conner Kent, Cassie Sandsmark, and Bart Allen. Which means even more time on their various wikis. But I am really excited for what is going to come. If all goes well, I plan to start applying for jobs and moving in the next two or three months. And I'll start posting to AO3 after that if I get enough written. (I want at least the first 4 chapters done. And I tend to go for 7k+ chapters. So basically, I want 30k written before I start posting. Currently at ~19k, though some parts will have to be rewritten with the Young Justice in mind.)

Now, I don't want anyone to feel bad for NOT voting for Bring Me Home! I love all five of these ideas and I'm so excited to share them all with you. That was just the first thing I wrote for this fandom.

Ghost Robin... Keep an eye out and I'll be sharing a poll to help me decide on a title. I hate naming things and usually leave it until the last minute. I love how excited you guys are for the new segments I share on Wednesdays--my notifications go crazy for a full 2+ days after I share something. It is so much fun to write. It's also like 90% dialogue which is definitely not my usual. Especially a dialogue fic with so many characters. So it's been fun to get out of my comfort zone a bit!

Wrong Number AU! I will definitely return to this fic. I want to finish Ghost Robin first, though. I don't expect that one to be more than 20k words max and I already have about 6k written (though parts need a good polish). So I will wrap that up and switch over to this one. I'll work on this and Bring Me Home concurrently until one is finished.

Then I'll move on to one of these last two options! (Which, let's be honest, based on interest will be the Dead on Main fic.)

As I mentioned, the Twin AU was my original fic idea for this fandom. I got really into the trope with some of the gems on AO3 that existed back in August through November (though many more have been added since and I've read a lot of them). I can't say there's anything too unique in the fundamentals about my take on them, but I think I can make the details interesting enough that it won't feel stale. It will feature trans!Danny because that is a favorite trope of mine.

And onto Dead on Main. Wow, you DoM shippers are feral and I love it. (I say like I do not actively ship them myself. In fact, it is tied for my top 3 Danny ships and I'm a multi-shipper.) I am so excited to have the chance to think on this and flesh the idea out more thoroughly earlier than expected. This is going to be so chock full of angst and self discovery. I'll be putting together a full outline in the next week or two for my own records, but I'm having fun with the segment I plan to share with you guys. Just need to write another thousand words and do some editing. I don't think it'll take long, I've just been crazy busy this week!

Send an ask if you want to know more about any or all of these fics! I love rambling about my ideas just like any writer. If, say, you want to know more about the angst in Dead on Main, just send "Dead on Main angst?" and I will go on about it. (I have multiple angles I can explore there, so I can answer multiple questions about it.)

Thank you again for all the enthusiasm in this fandom! It's been a blast getting to recognize many of your usernames and icons.

So, you all are amazing. This blog has existed less than a month and I'm already at 100 followers. I love you and I'm glad you're enjoying what I'm putting out!

In celebration, I'm making this poll to see what you all want to see and I'll post a longer segment (ideally 2-3k words) next weekend for the fic you vote for. I'll even be including 2 that I haven't shared anything for, so if you want to know what's on my mind for after I get through my current stuff, this is one way to do it!

The DannyxDamian twin AU is actually the first idea I had for a fic for this fandom. It's what pushed me to become active in the Tumblr community and brought me out of my AO3 reading only. Full of angst and identity shenanigans.

The Dead on Main idea I've got is based off this prompt I submitted ages ago. It even has artwork!

Your regular wip Wednesdays will continue as normal.